


Aftermath and Precursor

by DevinCx, piratenami



Series: Knights of the Old Republic: Outcasts [8]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Non-Graphic Violence, Original Character-centric, Space Opera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-15 18:16:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16068632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevinCx/pseuds/DevinCx, https://archiveofourown.org/users/piratenami/pseuds/piratenami
Summary: Three disparate threads come together to set the stage for the final chapter of the story.Rhade returns to the fold with his prize; Ori Ket travels to Coruscant seeking answers; and the Phoenix walks into a fight it cannot win, in order to defend their honor against those who seek to destroy it.





	Aftermath and Precursor

The bored Republic Customs agent looked at the next person in the long, long line. 

She wore what looked like some sort of environmental suit and a full face mask which completely hid her features. 'Great,' the man thought. 'Hopefully this one speaks Basic. The last one had some sort of pictograph cards...'

He plowed into the standard greeting. "Hello and welcome to Coruscant. If at any time you do not understand me, an interpreter can be provided. Do you have anything to declare?" The message was repeated on several screens facing the alien in a myriad of languages. Hopefully _one_ would catch.

She lifted a translation unit and an identi-card. She spoke in some harshly technological gutturals, and the unit said, "Nothing to declare. I am Murl, of the Ubese. I cannot breathe this air, however my identification credentials include certification by Republic personnel of my identity."

The agent wanted to scream. The credentials checked out, but If he followed full procedure, he would have to pull this 'Murl' woman out of line, escort her to an environment chamber so her breather unit could be safely removed and her identity confirmed. It should only take... twenty minutes or so. But the line was already massive as it was, and he'd have to close his booth during the examination and....

To hell with it. 

He stamped Murl's entrance visa and waved her through. "Enjoy your stay...."

***

In all the hustle and bustle of the arrival queues, no one noticed Murl as she made her way into the women's lavatory, or noted that she was in there for a very long time. 

'Because,' Ori Ket thought as she pulled off her 'Murl' helmet and shed the environment suit, 'no one actually times how long most women take to powder their noses.'

She took out the wide poncho and floppy hat that would obscure her facial and body characteristics from the security scanners, balled up the Murl disguise and stashed it in her luggage, then she strolled out of the bathroom with a Coruscanti guidebook in her free hand.

Time to see the sights....

***

Computer Entry: 092385-Aurek

Classification: Ship's log, Free Mandalorian Cruiser: Phoenix

Recording: Temporary Commander Sallis 

Transcript follows:

The Phoenix has eluded the Republic ships that chased us out of Trianii space. After some fancy maneuvers, we managed to evade capture and are presently en route to the Ojoster sector, adjacent to Mandalorian space, where we hope to find shelter.

The ship is functioning at near peak efficiency, but morale is low. The absence of Cait and Gat weighs heavily on all of us. We don't know if they managed their rendezvous, if the Republic caught up with them.... Our only source of intel is the damn holonet, and Republic News isn't saying anything of import, not on that score anyway. 

The news is full of banging drums. It looks like the Jedi are trying to lay groundwork for an invasion of Sith-space, and they want the public on their side before they launch the campaign. 

For now, we have to keep our focus on staying one step ahead of the Republic, and figuring out what comes next.

*** End Log Entry ***

Sallis leaned back into the Phoenix's command station chair and glared pensively at the mottled sky of hyperspace.

He tried to remember the last time he'd slept. Really slept, not just a cat nap between duty shifts and nightmares. Probably, he thought to himself, just before launching the Castell blockade. How many weeks ago had that been? The number dismayed him.

Absolutely none of this showed on his face, however. He sat at his station, the perfect model of a cool, composed officer. After all, the fastest way to sever the thin threads holding up what little morale the crew had was for their commander to show how worried he really was. Confidence. That was the order of the day.

He took a moment to consider each of the five bridge officers. They might not be the finest warriors he'd ever served with, but they were all good at their jobs, and had performed their duties in perfect Mandalorian fashion in the heat of battle. 

At communication sat a young man whose real name Sallis could never remember, that everyone simply called Boomer. He had a talent for piecing signals together out of the mad chaos that was fleet-wide combat jamming and counter-jamming. Granted, at Castell that slicer Falani had beaten Boomer in finding a way around the Republic jamming system. But it was Boomer who managed to parse the resultant chaos into a set of clean communication feeds. And after the battle, it was Boomer who had worked tirelessly to take the captured comm data and filter out the evidence of Republic manipulation from the rest of it. He had been forced to listen to countless of his fellow Free Mandalorians die as the trap closed about them, but he had done so with fierce determination and a quiet dignity that Sallis could not help but admire.

At the forward navigation station sat a middle-aged woman, Becka. She'd been with the Phoenix longer than even Sallis had, and she could make the heavy cruiser dance like it was a snub fighter. Escaping Ekibo, she'd plotted a jump vector through such a tiny gap in the Republic battle group that she had missed brushing the other ships by perhaps a handspan. Plus, she was even crazier than Lug down in engineering, which was saying a lot.

Next to navigation was the tactical station. There sat young Teg. At first, Sallis had his doubts about Teg. The man was scarcely more than a boy. But he'd acquitted himself nobly. The kid had ice water in his veins, and eyes that never sat still. Even better, at Castell, the targeting computers had glitched and Teg did the targeting computations in his head with nearly the same speed as the computer. Sallis loved efficient bridge officers. Teg wouldn't be 'the kid' much longer.

Across from Sallis's own station, facing a large hologramatic pit, was the operations station. Operations was the domain of Shio. Sallis and Shio had come up through training and had served together since almost day one. They were closer than brothers and Sallis trusted the other man implicitly.

The final member of the bridge crew was supposed to be the chief engineer, but on the Phoenix that was Gat. Gat had always preferred being hands-on, in the engine room itself, so he'd usually dispatched his second, Nical, to liaise with the bridge. Nical knew this ship inside and out, but he wasn't comfortable in his role as chief just yet. Sallis fervently hoped he'd grow into the role soon....

Sallis' mental review was brought up short by Boomer. "Sir," the comm tech said, "we're getting a general distress call. Too weak to get it all, but it keeps repeating."

"Source?"

"Working," Boomer said. A moment later, he had it. "It's coming from Taris... there, I think I have enough of it."

"On speakers," Sallis ordered.

The static-laced message came over the bridge audio system. "This is the Tarisian... under attack... Mandalorian battleship... civilian colony... massive casualties. Please... ease help us...." The signal dissolved into static.

"No way in hell are Mandalorians attacking Taris," Becka said. Then she seemed to remember herself and added, "Sir."

"I agree," Sallis said with a small grin. "There's nothing there of value, strategic or otherwise. Boomer, anything else you can glean?"

"Not much sir. It appears from the level of comm chatter that it's a small group of attacking ships, maybe five in all. And sir, I agree with Becka. The attackers don't read like us, they read like the ships that attacked us at Castell."

"Understood. Shio, show me Taris."

An image of the planet and its natural satellites appear in the hologram pit. "If I were a betting man," Shio said, "I'd lay all my money on those ships being right here." A section of nearby space became highlighted.

"You haven't placed a bet since we were twenty," Sallis said under his breath. "Tactical, Engineering, status?"

Teg piped right up. "Weapon systems primed and charged, missiles loaded, targeting systems all on standby. Gunnery crews ready."

Nical added, "Ship's systems at 100%."

"Right, thank you." Sallis sat back again and considered. The Phoenix would be outgunned and laughably outnumbered. But Taris was a small, almost pitiful world. They couldn't lift a finger to fight off an attacking Republic fleet of fake Mandos.

Did he have the right to risk his ship and crew?

Could he live with himself if he didnt? Could he allow another Castell to happen right under his nose?

No.

"Nav! Prepare to change our hyperspace vector to Taris. Drop us right in the back of Shio's projected enemy positions. Tactical, heat 'em up. We're gonna have to maximize the advantage of surprise if we're going to have any chance at this."

"Aye, sir!" Becka said.

"Yes, Commander!" Teg added. 

"Engineering," Sallis continued, "we're going to need our guns as primed as possible. Don't even bother with shields at first. Keep our weapons hot for two salvos, then redirect all power to sublight engines and shields. Tactical, from then on, do it with missiles."

Nical and Teg both confirmed.

"Nav, once we revert to normal space, hold our position to give Teg the best shot possible, then get us dancing."

"Just play me a good tune, Commander," Becka said with a wry little smirk.

Sallis chuckled and punched the ship's intercom button on his station's armrest. "All crew, this is the Commander. Battlestations, this is no drill. All crew to battlestations."

***

The man known as Rhade stood before the mirror in the refresher compartment of his quarters aboard the Republic dreadnaught Emancipator, the straight metal blade held to his own neck.

How could he do it? It was so inconceivable....

Meena... He'd left her on the floor. 

Cait, Meena's Mandalorian lover. _Her_ he'd slammed head first against a stone wall, then repeatedly bounced her limp body off the floor.

Sure, Meena had been his... well, friend is what she'd probably say. But when the time came he....

The blade made a swift, if somewhat shaky, motion. One straight cut.

Blood welled and Rhade let out a curse.

Red stained the water in the sink, swirling away in crimson mockery as the last of Aeron's beard floated amidst lumps of shaving cream. Now, Rhade was going to have a blemish on his perfect skin. 

All because he could not simply crush the life out of Meena. Not with the Force anyway. He'd had to choke her with his own two hands. He had to admit, the sensation of the life ebbing from Meena while the strange Force bond between Aeron, Kara, and Renn sang in his mind was... unexpectedly exhilarating. 

At least the medipatch over his fresh scars was holding. By this time tomorrow, the injuries dealt him by that ridiculous bird would be long gone. If only the three parallel marks on his other cheek could be healed as simply. The med techs said it would take minor surgery to do that, and he couldn't be out of commission that long, not until he could hand off Bladedancer to someone else.

Bladedancer... how sick he was of her. Playing her simpering friend, trying to keep her off-balance so she'd be easier for Master Quinn to recondition later, but keeping her from giving in to the darkness he'd felt growing within her. The last thing the Jedi needed was a full-blown avatar of the Force, someone so innately powerful that she could probably crush planets, falling to the dark side. 

So he'd played the part of dutiful friend and supposed teacher. All the while using Renn and their feelings for each other as his tools. And it worked better than he could have hoped.

In the end, he'd wanted to kill Falani anyway, to pay him back for all those petty little slights, but no.... That would have driven Bladedancer over the edge.

Besides, he wanted Falani to be aware of it when he finally ended their little game. How he must be spinning in circles, wondering how long that mewling quim 'Aeron' had been planning to betray them.

Rhade took a deep breath, and let all those dark emotions drain out of him. He was tiptoeing along the razor's edge of the dark side, and he knew it. Maybe that was why he'd had to use his bare hands on Meena. Maybe the Force was too conflicted within him to do what must be done.

Master Kell would not be pleased by that. 

That thought alone drew Rhade back to his bunk, to sit cross-legged and focus in meditation once more upon the vision of the perfect order that his Master would create.

No matter who got in his way.

***

Admiral Theo Resh didn't get his hands dirty anymore. He had people for that.

But Ori Ket's cryptic message to the field team sent to acquire her had been directed solely at him. "Tell ol' Reshie that I'll meet him one-on-one at the Exhaust Port, four months from today at quittin' time," she'd told the team leader.

That meant that she was willing to come in, but she'd only do so if Resh met her himself, on neutral, if not friendly, ground. Hence his presence in the cramped surveillance lift-van disguised as a delivery truck. If he was uncomfortable in close quarters, or with the smell of many bodies in the small space, he gave no sign. Of course, his underlings now had the boss in their midst, and that made everyone _else_ uncomfortable.

"The Exhaust Port," he said aloud. "Now that's a blast of nostalgia..."

"Sir?" his aide, Major Jeen, asked.

Resh leaned back in his cheap swivel chair in the rear of the van. "Back in my early special forces days, the Exhaust Port was a bar where my squad would go and blow off steam after training. It was right there."

Jeen nodded. "The building is gone; it's a park now."

Resh eyed the wide open area, a circular flagstone courtyard and fountain ringed by benches, with some open grass beyond that and screening trees and bushes at the periphery. As far as sight lines went, it was a covert surveillance nightmare.

"I'd still feel better if you'd let us put some plain clothes troops in there with you," Jeen said. It was an argument they'd had over and over again in recent days.

Resh sighed, his patience rapidly disappearing. "This is Ori Ket we're talking about. She'd spot them and we'd never find her again."

Jeen's patience also seemed to have evaporated. "And what if she decides to take a shot at you? Her son's a terrorist after all. Do you really think she isn't on their side?"

The van fell abruptly silent.

"Jeen, you're a good man, so I'm going to forget you said that," Resh said.

Major Jeen let out an explosive breath. "Thank you, Sir. My apologies for overstepping my bounds."

"Not at all," Resh said, "you're just doing your job. But part of my job is knowing when we have to throw the usual playbook out the window. Ori _wrote_ the damn thing, so that time has arrived."

"Speaking of," said Specialist Jenk Marlo, the usual team leader, from the other surveillance station, "it's time, Sir."

Marlo's team had been the one which failed so spectacularly back on Nal Yashu. Resh thought they deserved a second bite at the meiloorun fruit. They'd have a few spotters and snipers in the buildings around the park and, against Resh's orders, a few people about the periphery of the park as well, the Admiral was sure.

Resh nodded to Marlo, picked up a cup of caf and a paper bag with a pastry in it and left the van, a datapad tucked under his arm. Just a man out for an early evening stroll to the park.

As the sun began to dip low through the clouds, the park started to empty naturally. Resh found a pair of empty benches near the fountain, angled just slightly away from each other and he sat turned further away from the other bench, perusing the feeds on his datapad and sipping at his caf.

Over the comm-bud concealed in his ear, he heard the status reports trickling in and settled back to wait.

"Heads up," came a report from the crew in one of the towers. "We've got someone in an Ubese enviro-suit entering the southwest corner of the park. Height and weight match the profile for our target."

Resh tried not to tense. He cocked the datapad slightly so the camera in its upper corner could see over his shoulder. The Ubese strolled along for a bit, went to the fountain and tossed a coin in, as if they were making a wish. Then they wandered over to the bench behind Resh and sat down, not quite matching the angle, putting them nearly back to back.

"Hey Resh," the Ubese said. It sounded like Ori, but the voice was so processed over the enviro-suit's speaker it was hard to be sure. "Thanks for coming."

"Of course," Resh said low. "Anything for the woman who saved my butt a dozen times over."

"Then why did you send your boys to my place to snag, bag, and tag me?"

That was Ori Ket. No doubt. "Because," Resh said, "we need you to come in. We need to know where your son is and what he's planning."

She snorted. "He's not planning anything. He wasn't behind Castell. He was only there to rescue friends caught behind the blockade."

"Then, why did he show up aboard one of the Mandalorian cruisers? Why did he break two people out of jail on Castell? And why do the Jedi want him so damn badly?"

"On the cruiser? No idea. The jailbreak was probably the friends I mentioned. And the last? You tell me, Reshie. That's why I wanted to meet in the first place."

Resh sighed. "That's not how this works and you know it."

"No, _Admiral_. What I know is my boy helped save all life in the galaxy, when the Republic thought Venaar wasn't worth lifting a finger over. So you're going to tell me why all of a sudden he's a most-wanted fugitive."

He didn't notice the soldiers coming until they surrounded the pair of them, blasters leveled. The boys were good at their jobs, Resh mused.  "No, Ori." he said around a chortle, "I'm not telling you anything. We're going to take you in now, and you're going to tell us everything we need to know."

***

The mottled sky of hyperspace shrank back into star-lines and then points of fire as the Phoenix roared into normal space once more.

Shio's voice didn't contain an ounce of the pride he deserved to feel as he called out bearings of all attacking craft. He'd been off, but only by a less than a ship-length.

Teg had firing solutions adjusted and the Phoenix's weapons blazed, tearing into the hulls of ships that hadn't expected significant resistance from the planet, let alone their rear flanks. A second salvo followed on the heels of the first, and a third hammered home before the attacking vessels could even raise their shields.

"Shields!" Sallis roared, as Becka began slewing their course through the chaotic battlefield without being ordered.

"Deflectors at maximum, Commander!" Nical said. "Routing additional power to turbolasers!"

Sallis grinned, his doubts about Nical quickly evaporating. "Boomer, get me a clear comm line to Taris, and bounce it through the hyperwave relays." 

From the operations station, Shio projected a tactical overlay on the main viewer. Over a dozen ships, all with bogus Free Mandalorian transponder signals, were concentrated over Taris's northern hemisphere. There was no effort to blockade, clearly this was meant to be a quick surgical strike. Of the attackers, five were battlewagons of greater or equal class to the Phoenix herself. Two had been totally disabled by their opening shots. The other three were damaged, but still in the fight. They were beginning to reposition to deal with the Phoenix, but there should still be some time before round two started. The rest of the attacking force were escorts, no threat in small numbers... but if they moved together, Sallis's ship was in for a pounding.

"Channel coming open, Sir," Boomer said.

"People of Taris," Sallis began, "the ships attacking you claim to be Free Mandalorians. They are not. We are the Phoenix, the last ship of the true Free Mandalorian Fleet. We are the protectors of the honor of Mandalore! We will not allow these animals to sully our name by shedding innocent blood for their greed! We are the protectors, and we are here to save you!"

Salis made a cutting motion and Boomer closed the channel.

On the screen, Sallis saw the Republic fleet splitting into elements. One of the battleships was maintaining a planetary bombardment position, while the other two came in on her flanks to defend her against the Phoenix's next attack. The escorts were forming into a flying wedge to block their access to the big ships.

"Nav," Sallis asked Becka, "do you think this old girl can pull off a nano-jump?"

"I can, but I don't think the hyperdrive will... Nical?"

The engineer punched buttons frantically. "I.... Yeah, but don't ask anything else of it for a good ten minutes."

Sallis nodded. "Understood. Nav, plot a nano-jump to put us between the center battleship and the one on her starboard flank, and I mean drop-dead-center, Becka. If they miss us, they'll hit each other."

She grinned. "On it, Sir."

"Tactical," Sallis continued, "load all rear tubes with ion-charge torpedoes. Program the launchers to fire immediately upon exiting the jump. Then, prepare to rake the flanks of both battleships with every cannon we've got."

Teg's fingers flew over his controls. "Yes, Sir!"

Incoming fire from the Republic forces began to splatter across the Phoenix's shields, their gap was narrowing....

"Jump computed!" Becka cried.

"Targeting solution plotted, weapons primed!" Teg added.

"Drive and shields ready!" Nical said.

Sallis dropped a hand in a decisive slash. "Execute!"

And in a blink, the view changed. Massive Republic warships hemmed the Phoenix in on either side as ion charges rippled out from her rear torpedo launchers. A moment later, the Phoenix's guns opened up, aiming primarily for the enemy ship's weapons systems.

"Shields restored to maximum!" Nical shouted, but a sickening shudder ran through the ship.

"Report!" Sallis barked.

"Th- the hyperdrive gone, Sir," Nical said. "It's totally fried."

"All right then, we're committed." Sallis said with a grim nod. "Route the hyperdrive's power to weapons. Keep them and our shields as hot as you can."

Nical nodded, already working on it.

"Enemy battleship status?" Salis asked as the ship to their starboard began hammering their shields.

"Portside battleship has ceased its bombardment of Taris," Shio said. "In fact, it looks dead in space, cascade failures all through it. Starboard ship is down to about a third of its shields and we've carved off half its portside weaponry. Can't get a read on number three. Good news on the escorts though. They're in complete chaos. Half of them are disabled."

"Power redistributed," Nical reported. "But our shields are down to eighty percent and dropping fast."

"Tactical, starboard torpedoes! Anti-ship warheads! Focus all fire on the battleship to starboard!"

"Aye, Sir!" Teg said, and the ship shuddered again as the explosive warheads were launched by the dozen.

Shio tapped a few keys. "Target is concentrating its shields on our attack vectors! It's.... Oh no..."

"Report!" Sallis barked. 

"The disabled battleship to our portside is descending, dropping into the upper atmosphere! The third Republic battleship beyond it is assuming minimal target aspect and coming in from above. It'll have a clear shot at our flank in forty seconds!"

"Engine status?!" Sallis demanded.

"Sublights are optimal," Nical said.

"Nav, bring us about! Point us right at the incoming ship's conn tower!" Sallis raised a hand toward Nical and Teg. "On my mark, sublight engines to full! Roll all shields double front! Tactical, full forward firepower!"

Nical and Teg prepared to execute the desperate maneuver as Becka swung the Phoenix's prow into line with the central control tower of the Republic warship. Its bridge was up there, its primary sensor and communication suites were up there... it was the nerve center of the Republic battlewagon, and Sallis meant to drive a spike right through it.

"Course ready, sir!" Becka called from her station.

"Mark!" Sallis dropped his hand like a descending sword.

The Phoenix lurched forward, cannons blazing and missiles firing by the score. The Republic ship filled the viewport as they drew nearer, and Teg still found the power to keep the cannons firing. The smaller Mandalorian vessel's prow contacted the battleship's shields, causing the entire side of the larger ship to flare with blue energy, and still the little cruiser continued to claw its way forward, the larger ship's shields buckling under the strain.

Finally, with a brilliant flash, the shields fell. Mandalorian fire began to smash into the structure of the conn tower as they hammered their way through the armored hull to softer things like ship's systems, interior bulkheads, and crew. 

The breathing gases ignited in a spectacular, if short-lived, fireball, and lights flickered all along the immense battleship, before finally blinking out.

"Swing us about!" Sallis said as soon as the target blinked out. "Point us at that last battleship but keep this hulk right at out backs! Engineering, status?!"

"Helm sluggish but responding!" Becka said while Nical was still surveying his screens.

The young man at the engineering console raised grim eyes to Sallis. "Shields at five percent. Sublight engines severely damaged by enemy fire. We aren't going anywhere."

Shio grimaced and reported, "Republic escort group is coming about, classic pincer movement. They'll have us bracketed in approximately seventy seconds."

Sallis sighed. They couldn't run; they could barely maneuver. And the enemy still had them deliriously outgunned.

"Commander," Boomer said, "incoming signal from Taris."

"On screen," Sallis said. An image appeared on the main view panel. It was a hard-faced man in civilian robes.

"I am Taro Gren, the director of the Taris resettlement project. Commander, take your ship and run. We're grateful for what you've done for us, but all you can do is throw your lives away at this point."

"Thank you, Director Gren," Sallis said. "But if we did that, these lying dogs who fly false Mandalorian colors would just continue their assault on your world, and our honor as warriors will not allow that."

Gren closed his eyes, as though in silent prayer. "Go with the Force, Commander. You and your brave crew are of the light. We will remember, always."

***

Admiral Resh rose from the park bench and made his way around to Ori, who seemed completely at ease with the dozens of Republic Commandos that surrounded her. She hadn't even removed her disguise yet. She just sat calmly upon her own bench, without a care in the world.

"Ori Ket," Resh began, "you will come with us quietly to a transfer facility, where you will be remanded into custody and processed. You will then tell us everything we want to know about the location and plans of your son."

"Really, Reshie?" She sighed. "All the times I pulled your ass outta the fire and you throw me under the Hutt like this? Onasi was right, you are a miserable son of a schutta."

"And you're a traitor." He reached forward and ripped her helmet clean off.

He'd expected a look of shock, or at least defiance. 

He was right on the first count. The Ubese face that began gasping as her only breathable atmosphere was torn away from her by the Republic Admiral was indeed shocked.

"If I were you," came Ori's voice from the helmet in Resh's fist, "I'd give this back to her. The Ubese are real prickly about people murdering their royalty, and the favor that the Imperial Princess owed me only covered her sitting here, not you killing her in a fit of pique."

Resh quickly handed the helmet back, and the Ubese Princess pulled it over her face.

Ori laughed at him over the speaker. "You did tell me one thing though," Ori chortled. "You confirmed it's the Jedi who want my idiot son and his friends. Thanks for the info, old boy...."

***

From the shambles that used to be the colony resettlement compound, Director Gren surveyed a map of the conflict going on above their heads. His prayers for the crew of the Phoenix did not cease. They were brave men and women.

Once, there had been many such brave souls in this galaxy....

As the attacking craft moved in for the kill, Gren commended all of the Phoenix's souls to the cosmic Force. He only wished he knew their names.

"Director!" the young woman at the sensor console cried. "Another fleet of ships emerging from hyperspace! Their vector indicates Mandalorian space at their origin!"

"The Phoenix is hailing them!" a comm tech added and patched the feed over the facility's speakers.

The attackers closed in and the Phoenix's Commander's final words were a simple, defiant cry. "For Mandalore!"

The dot of light in the air above Gren, that indicated the brave ship which fought to save innocent lives and for the honor of their world, winked out of existence.

"Incoming ships are identified as belonging to the Mandalorian border patrol," the sensor tech said with a hitch in her throat.

"Their Commander is hailing the attacking ships," the comm tech added. "Just three words: 'For the Protectors'."

The Mandalorian border fleet opened up on the attacking ships with everything they had. The fight was vicious, and brief. When it was over, the Mandalorian ships were the only ones left in the sky.

The victorious fleet sent shuttles with medical personnel and supplies, but left before the grateful Tarisians could even thank them properly. They did, however, erect a monument to the lives lost that day and, more importantly, to the lives saved. 

To this day it still stands, in the center of Reclamation Park in Taris's capital city. A bird emerging from the flames of war.

A phoenix.


End file.
